


KT Event

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Navigating the Stars. [14]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dadgil Week (Devil May Cry), Gen, Kidnapping, Light Angst, Toddler Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24837391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: Three years since an infant Nero was found by Vergil, and it's time for a special outing with his favourite Aunt...Unfortunately, there's  someone else interested in the boy, for much, much darker purposes.
Series: Navigating the Stars. [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491467
Comments: 34
Kudos: 108





	1. To wipe them out....

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Been a while since I added to this series, but this one has been rumbling in my head for months. Hope you enjoy it, and the second chapter for Dadgil week!

Had Dante asked Lady if she ever envisioned herself as a babysitter about three years ago, she’d have shot him in the head yet again. After her ‘wonderful’ family experiences, she had pretty much sworn off the mere whisper of the idea of settling down with anyone and raising a kid. 

But this was different. This was Nero, the bubbly bright toddler who was the complete opposite of his cold, reserved father, (and thankfully wasn’t like his uncle, the kid had more manners than Dante, which to be fair, wasn’t hard to do.)

And so when Vergil had requested that she take a job, which consisted of taking the boy out for the day, she’d accepted. Of course, she didn’t admit she would have accepted it even if Vergil hadn’t offered her payment. Nero had charmed his ‘Auntie Lady’ (Had Dante asked her three years ago if she would be okay with being called _that_ term at her age, she would have shot him a couple of more times for good measure). Besides, it was supposed to be a special day for the kid, his third birthday, and she planned to spoil him.

She hopped off her bike, and after securing and unloading her firearms, she headed up the steps. She hadn’t even shut the door before she heard the rapid patter of tiny feet running across the hardwood floor.

“AUNTIE LADY!” he shrieked, and with a force no toddler should be able to inflict, he tackled her. She picked him up, and spun him around as he giggled happily. 

“I heard today is a special day…but I forget who it’s for?” She booped his nose with her finger.

“Silly auntie, it my birthday!”

“Oh!” she feigned shock, “it is? And how old are you turning today?”

Nero beamed, “I’m thwee!”

“Wow! You’re getting so big!” she set him down, attempting not to wince. She wasn’t lying, the kid had definitely had a growth spurt since she’d last picked him up.

“We go to mooseum today?” he looked hopeful, and even if that wasn’t the plan, there was no way she could have refused him.

“Yup, kiddo.. And you’re going to see a whole bunch of fun stuff!” She nodded at Vergil, coming down the stairs with what seemed to be a well loved diaper bag. When she had suggested the location, he’d promptly agreed. Something educational, but fun, seemed better than Dante’s idea (“Nero is far too young for go-karts” Vergil had grumbled). While they spent the day out looking at exhibits, both Dante and Vergil would tidy up and get his presents ready. The fact that the brothers were working together on the same project fairly peacefully truly spoke of the power that was Nero. He’d tamed his asshole father, made Dante a (somewhat) more responsible adult, and now Dante and Vergil got along for the sake of the kid. Of course Lady was not affected, not at all. 

“I have all his needed items for the trip, applesauce, juicebox, crackers if he gets hungry, as well as a book if you have to wait in line for anything. And since he is not quite potty trained-”

“Woah there, Blue... “ Lady said as she grabbed the handles. “I’ve taken care of the bugger before, I know the drill.”

“Still, it never hurts to make sure.”

“Relax! I got him all under control, right Nero?” Lady smiled.

“Right!” Nero echoed, his hands on his hips. “Daddy, I be very good for Auntie Lady!”

Vergil chuckled as he patted his son’s head, “I know you will, but stay close to her, understood? And do what she asks of you… and do not beg for sweets-” But the toddler had already gone to put on his shoes… “Let’s go! Love you Daddy!”   
“I’ll try to keep him as occupied for as long as possible.” She attempted to assure Vergil, who seemed just a touch antsy, “maybe even I’ll manage to tire him out?”

To which she heard the barely muffled laughing from the younger brother, “good luck with that…” she barely heard him mutter. She was going to retort something, but Nero, already haphazardly dressed, was yanking her arm out of the door.

  
  


*****

  
  


As they made their way up the granite steps of the grand building, Nero ran ahead, obviously excited to reach the revolving doors. The kid was so eager to enter, he miscalculated the height of the second last step, and his toes grazed the corner, just shy of the hard grey stone. Before Lady could react, the boy lost his balance, and with a wet SLAP, he fell to the ground. She mentally let out a stream of expletives, as she caught up to the crying toddler.

“Owwwwww” he whined and she hurriedly ran up the remaining steps, tissue in hand.

“Imokay” he sniffled, and physically, he was fine, his scratches on his elbow and knee already healing. Lady would never in a million years get used to seeing skin mending before her very eyes. But still, Nero’s lip quibbling betrayed his true feelings.

Lady wiped off the blood quickly, attempting to remain as calm as possible, but now she understood why Dante, and even Vergil tensed up whenever Nero hurt himself. Had her father felt the same when she did that as a child, before he- no, he didn’t deserve that consideration.

“Does it hurt still?” she asked as the last of the blood was wiped away.

“A little…” Nero admitted rubbing his recently healed skin.

Lady knew exactly what to do, as if it was some sort of instinct. With gentleness, yet firmness, she knelt down even further and brushed her lips on his knee. 

“There, that should make it better,” she announced, and noticed that the little boy was looking at her perplexed. “Oh, you didn’t know the magic of kisses?” 

He shook his head. Lady inwardly sighed. Of course, Mr. Stick up his Butt wouldn’t do kisses, and Dante wouldn’t risk his brother’s wrath by doing something that might freak out his nephew, but Lady was made of sterner stuff.

After placing a smooch on his knee, she got up and gave him a hand. “ Magic kisses make the hurt go away. Feeling better there buddy?”

“Wooow,” he said, awed at the power of the placebo effect. “Auntie Lady, you a witch like gramma?”

“Not really,” she chuckled, amused by his wonderstruck expression.

“Uncle Dante gets ouchies all the time, you try magic kisses on him!”

Her chuckles died instantly, and she gripped his arm a bit too tightly as she helped him up the stairs and through the stately door.

“Aha...let’s not talk about magic kisses and Dante, okay kid?”

*****

The moment Nero saw the first exhibit, any thoughts about magic kisses flew out the window. There, surrounded by groups of people of all ages, was a recreation of a fossil, its head turned to face them. Nero was open mouthed with amazement.

“AUNTIE LADY! Auntie Lady! Issa...issa…” he struggled to form the complicated word in his tiny mouth, before finally getting it out, almost in a whisper. “Dinosauuuur”

Lady watched as his eyes followed the shape of the lizard, from its tiny little head, down its plated back, to its spiked tail (the guidebook said it was called a ‘Thagomizer’, which sounded like a term Dante would come up with.)

“And do you know what type of dinosaur that is?”

Nero’s brow furrowed as he attempted to sound it out. “It’s a…. Stego-saur-us”

Lady clapped her hands in congratulation, “Good job! Now let’s see if you can name all the dinosaurs.”

So, for a few hours, both of them looked at exhibit after exhibit of fossils, replicas, animations, and interactive activities. Nero was having the time of his life, waving off repeated queries if he wanted to sit down and eat, or go to the bathroom, or just rest. Dante, Lady dejectedly realized, had been right. There would be no slowing this kid down. She idly mused on how the hell the twins’ mother had dealt with TWO of them. 

But now Nero, eyes as big as saucers, had found the T-Rex display, a full sized imagining of what the King of Dinosaurs would look like in its natural habitat of ferns and other flora, as it attempted to attack an Ankylosaurus, crouched down in a defensive posture. Despite all the exciting things to do and see, Nero kept dragging her back to that diorama, totally entranced by its realism and ferocity.

He’d also decided that now HE was the tyrannosaurus, and just when Lady’s alertness had slipped, he’d pop into her view, and with a ferocious (well, for a three year old, to Lady, it is was completely adorable) roar, he would growl that he was gonna eat her.

“Oh no!” she wailed dramatically, “I need to run away!” and he’d chase her to the next display. It was fun, silly, and hopefully would tucker the tyke out. 

He was engrossed at looking at a collection of teeth as long as his forearm, when Lady decided to turn the tables on him. It was getting late, and she needed to bring him home, before the brothers decided that working together was just too much of a hassle, and the inevitable sword fight broke out.

Sneaking up, she managed to catch the kid focused on the fossils (although, honestly it looked like he was staring through the display, as if not looking at anything, a Vergilesque frown on his face), and with a toned down yell, she roared at him.

“I’m a T-Rex, and I’m gonna eat ya!”

Nero’s reaction was nothing she’d expected. It wasn’t a giggle, nor a yelp of surprise, or even a grumble of annoyance. It was a look of pure terror. Had she truly scared him? Lady was worried, she hadn’t thought she’d done anything too scary for the tyke, but then again, he was only three years old.

“Kid, you okay?” she asked, clearly alarmed at his eyes, pupils widened to the point where she could barely see the icy blue anymore. This was nothing she’d ever seen from him. “You know it was just a trick right? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Nero just stared at her, or through for a few moments, before his mouth opened and a tiny, whisper came out, as if just saying the word would destroy everything.

_“Demons!”_

Lady’s mind blanked out for a few seconds, before she realized what Nero was saying. Somehow, just like his dad and uncle, he could sense those monsters nearby, and was reacting to their presence in the only way a child could. 

She was about to try to ask him if he could tell how many, or how close they were, but the crashes and screams echoing off the marble floors from a nearby room gave her all the answers she needed. Scooping the petrified boy into her arms, she ran away from the noise, which now included the unholy screams of demons as well as humans. Ordinarily, she would have made sure her guns were loaded, heaved off her grenade launcher, and headed toward the commotion, (even if she wasn’t being paid, the joy of eradicating demons was well worth the cost of ammunition, but she’d never admit it to Dante). But right now, she was armed with only a pistol, and more importantly, was carrying something more valuable than the thrill of killing hellspawn. So discretion was the better part of valour in this situation.

Running as fast she could, she ran toward a fire exit, the sound of falling plaster bones crumbling behind them, closer than before. Perhaps it was just a random attack, or a summoning gone wrong, and the demons were just causing general havok. If she could make her way through the panicking crowds to the door, then sprint to the car, she could get out of here, get the kid to safety. Then Dante and her could head back, mop up this and hell, maybe get pa-

She never got to finish that thought, as the sound of shattering glass and cracking masonry exploded from her left side, causing her to go sprawling to the ground, and over din, she could hear the startled cry of Nero as the force ripped him from her arms. Instincts kicking in, she pulled out her pistol and squeezed off a few shots at a couple of pyro bats that screeched above her. Wet warmth blossomed on her face as the old scar on the bridge of her nose opened up, blood flowing like a torrent from the wound. 

Lady attempted to get up, to find out where Nero had ended up, when a rotten squawk, like a crow who had a pack a day habit, rang out among the new ruins. She barely had time to swing around, before spindly claws, covered in disgusting oily pustules, wrapped around her torso in a vice-like grip, the suddenness causing to cause her to drop her gun to the marble floor.

She struggled in vain as she was raised up, to see what would have passed as a freshly born baby bird, eyes still covered in skin. That is, if it wasn’t several metres tall, covered in decrepit featherlish flesh, and most disturbingly of all, a woman...wait, no three women fused at the torso, to each other, and to the bird. Three sets of jet black eyes stared, and three wicked smiles grinned at her.

 _“Hmmm, you smell of him, but…”_ the voices chanted in unison, like some unholy choir, and the three heads looked in different directions, looking for something. Lady had a sickening feeling she knew exactly who they sought. 

Hopefully, Nero had gotten away, or at the very least knew to hide. Whatever happened to her, if he could just stay safe, his father would come for him. Hell, the man was paranoid enough, he probably could sense that something was wrong already. 

No such luck though, as another mouldy caw rang out, and the other claw stretched out to grab a limp, dazed form. As Lady struggled to get out of the grasp of the demon, his eyelids flickered as he slowly came to. It didn’t take long for him to start freaking out, as he began struggling and screaming.

“LEMMEGOLEMMEGO! AUNTIE LADY!”

 _“Aha! There you are, Spawn of Sparda”_ she crooned, _“Finally, we have the one thing that will be able to draw out your sire. with one final blow, the Last Son of Sparda will be eliminated, and the Master will make good use of you, as frail as you are…”_

Lady thrashed in fury. Like hell were they going to take Nero away, to use him as a trap. Not on her watch. But all her struggles seemed to do was attract the attention of the hideous monstrosity.

 _“As for you,”_ she her three heads hissed together, _“I’ll give you the pleasure of living a bit longer, just long enough for you to send a message to the Son of Sparda, that if he wishes to see his precious little grub again, he may find me in the forest that the Path of the Toad leads to. And if he brings that sacrilegious blade with him, I will take great pleasure in slitting his son's throat right in front of him.”_ _  
_ Before Lady could protest, respond or even spit in the bitch’s general direction, the bird’s claws threw her roughly, through an already damaged wall, and into a pile of debris of what used to be that diorama that Nero had been so excited about. And as she lost consciousness among the dust covered ferns, she could hear the plaintive wails of the little boy, calling out for his aunt.

******

She awoke, pain coursing through her body, and attempted to get up. She needed to ignore the agony, she needed to stop that monster, she needed to find Nero.

But even if the pain wouldn’t stop her, something else, a firm and steady pressure on her shoulder (the one part of her body that didn’t hurt as much, since she always wore a bit more on that side to help her carry her grenade launcher). And a voice, muffled yet directed at her, but not malevolent, and a hand pressing on her jaw. She opened her mouth to yell at whoever was pestering her, but a cold, hard item that had several sharp points was popped in. It had no flavour, so it couldn’t be a jawbreaker, or a pill, but the hand forced her jaw shut. She tried to thrash out, to at least punch her attacker, but the combination of pain and just tiredness blunted her efforts. At least now, the muffled voice could be made out.

“Dammit, Lady. I do NOT need this right now. Just crunch down on the damn thing” Wait, that voice was familiar.

“You gave her the vital star, now let us depart as you promised.” Another, fainter voice, but with urgency and impatience soaked through.

“Vergil, I’m not leaving her like this. If Nero finds out we just left her half dead, he’ll never forgive us.”

_Nero_

  
The name brought back a torrent of memories, and she could hear Dante mutter “stop being stubborn and just bite down on it already.” And with that, she pushed it to the side of her mouth, and clenched down on it. She could hear the sound of what seemed like glass, and like some weird ass fruit gusher, a thick liquid poured out. At first, it was tasteless, but then, as it flowed slowly down her throat, she swore she could taste lightning. Don’t ask her how she knew what electricity would taste like, she just knew. In what felt too slow, yet much faster than a human body could possibly react, the pain subsided to a manageable dull thud, and she finally opened her eyes.

She instantly recognized where she was, Devil May Cry, laying on Dante’s favourite couch. She groaned, her nose was covered in makeshift cloth bandages, as were various parts of her arms and legs. Even with the numbing effect of the vital star, she wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon. Especially with Dante looking down on her with such concern, and Vergil giving her a withering glare.

“Okay, I gotta be quick with this, because if this conversation takes too long, Vergil’s gonna skewer us both.” Dante spat out, his face far too serious for her liking. Although in light of the situation, there had never been a time more appropriate for him to lose his devil-may-care attitude. “We heard from Morrison there was an attack on the museum, so we dropped everything to find out what the hell was going on. We found you…” he took a deep breath, “but not _him.”_ Dante’s knuckles cracked and popped, and she knew exactly whom he was speaking of. “We searched everywhere, but aside from a few demon corpses...nothing”

“They took him” she rasped out, her voice sounding uncomfortably like that demonic baby bird, “said they were gonna use him as a trap. Something about wiping out the ‘Last Son of Sparda’.”

Muttered curses came from both brothers.

“At least that means he’s still alive. That’s good news, I guess” Dante attempted to see the bright side.

“She told me where to find her. Something about…” she dug back into her fuzzy memories, clouded by rage and fear, “a forest...and a toad?”

“The Toad Road,” Vergil stated tersely, as he paced back and forth like a caged tiger, “One of the rumoured places where the veil between our world and Hell is exceptionally thin. No doubt some demon with delusions of grandeur wishes to be known as the one that eliminated the ‘Last Son-’” he paused, and stopped in his tracks as he stared at nothing in particular, “Wait, do they think there is only one of us?”

“Maybe they’re dumb, and can’t tell us apart,” Dante attempted to joke, “which is odd, since I am the far better looking twin” This earned him withering glares from both Lady and Vergil. 

“It could be that they believe only one twin still lives…” Vergil quickly got over his disdain for his brother (a sure sign that the situation was serious).

“Why would they even think that?”

“Because, brother… the night of the fire, you went underground, and I…” he paused, his brow furrowed, “I barely escaped by playing dead.” He left something unsaid, a memory best left buried in the rubble of a long abandoned home. He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, not when I’m done with them.” He spun around and headed to the door.

“Wait!” Lady cried, ignoring the pain in her chest, “You can’t bring Yamato! She said that she’d kill Nero if she saw it.” 

Vergil paused momentarily, and she was worried that he would just disregard her, and press ahead, risking his son’s life. His hand gripped on the hilt of his sword, and he looked torn. Unlike his younger brother, he was a one weapon type of man, and to take it away from him would make him feel..powerless.

Dante snapped his finger excitedly, “I got an idea! Maybe this whole ‘Last Son of Sparda’ thing could work to our advantage….” 

“Go on…” The fact that Vergil was even entertaining a plan from his brother underlined how desperate he was.

Dante leapt up and grabbed Ebony and Ivory from the desk, “I’ll tell you on the way there. But first, let’s just get to this rendezvous and get our kid back.”

Lady ignored the screaming muscles that protested, and began to get up. She had armour piercing round for each of that bitch’s heads, and a grenade for that creepy bird’s beak. 

But Dante firmly pushed her down into the couch. “Not this time,” he smiled, but there was a film of seriousness in his eyes, “You need to rest and heal up. Nero’s gonna want to give you a big hug when we get back.” Lady was not sure if he truly believed in the confidence that he was trying to exude.

“Make haste,” Vergil called out, and with the click of his tongue he ran out the door, with the elder following behind.

“Vergil,” she called out, and he paused, the door still halfway open. He didn’t make eye contact with her, but she could tell he was listening.

“You better bring him back, or I’ll be testing every single piece of weaponry I own on you.” It was an empty threat against someone that could deflect bullets with superhuman reflexes, but it was all she could do to drive home the point. 

Vergil said nothing, but she saw an almost imperceptible nod, before he closed the door behind him. Now, all she could do is rest and wait.

And to pray to whatever Deity that would be willing to listen, to help the brothers get Nero back.


	2. Counting your Chickens....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan two millennia in the making... Surely, on the cusp of her victory, nothing could go wrong for the Future Empress of the Underworld?

If there was one thing consistent with humans, it was their capacity for noise. She hadn’t been in the human worlds for untold ages, and yet they hadn’t changed that much. Their buildings were larger, their cities were more populated, but still, a human, when threatened, did the same thing. Scream. Sometimes high pitched in fear, sometimes in suicidal rage, but they all ended the same when she finished them off.

So, it was to Malphas’s great annoyance that the screaming grubbling could not be done away with, despite the temptation. First, only alive would he be the perfect bait to lure out the father, and to finally wipe out the accursed bloodline of Sparda.

And secondly, Mundus had specifically ordered that the child to be left alive and unspoiled, to be brought to him for some diabolical purpose. Personally, she would have ripped out the boy’s trachea the moment he had no use, but the God-Emperor had been rather specific. He wanted Sparda’s last remnant to twist into something he could use. And if she wanted to stay in his good graces, she’d better obey…. For now.

Still, the child’s cries for his father (and the cries for an ‘Ant Lady’, did the boy know an Empusa Queen?) were grating on her ears , as well as her retinue of underlings, to the point where she couldn’t trust them to not skewer the bawling boy, so she sent them away, to the entrance of the cave, to eliminate the chance of any of them losing their temper and taking it out the grub.

So, she suffered through it all. Screaming at the brat had only given her a momentary reprieve, but even that hadn’t been enough, for after a few whimpering minutes, the wails would start up again. Eventually, the boy had tried to bite her, so she ripped off a strip of his shirt and gagged him. Even then, his muffled cries were still annoying.

But despite it all, Malphas was excited. Finally, she could do what none of the other demons could not, and wipe out this detestable bloodline. Beowulf, lumbering one eyed brute that he was, had failed to finish the job all those years ago, and Naahma… her incompetent younger sister, couldn’t even finish off either father or son while they were helpless young ones.  _ Although, to be fair,  _ she thought,  _ her sister had made the mistake of focussing on a multitude of legs, instead of the superior method of fusing multiple bodies, (and minds) together. _

Malphas would succeed where they failed, and finally complete her plan that was millennia in the making.

She had first joined up with Sparda, all those years ago, on the first attack of the Human World, and when he had turned against Mundus, she had eagerly latched herself to his cause. Sparda was much more powerful, much more charismatic a demon than his supposed superior, a perfect Consort for Malphas. 

But then, to her horror, she found out that Sparda had turned against his master, not to overthrow him and rule Humanity, but to…  _ protect  _ Humanity. Any respect she had for the Dark Slayer vanished like the noxious fumes of the Swamps of Lerna did when the demonic winds ripped through.

Thankfully, Mundus had not heard of her defection, so she was able to silently realign with him, along with many who were just as disgusted with Sparda’s affection for the ‘lesser race’ of Humanity. But the damage had already been done, and the Heretic had been able to seal off the Underworld from the Human World, almost permanently.

But every now and again, a small force could slip through, and if they were lucky, convince the gullible humans on the other side to tear at the seams, thread by thread, lured in by false promises of power. It was one said group of them that had managed to kill nearly of Sparda’s pathetic family (the thought of one of the mightiest Demons of both words debasing himself with a HUMAN sickened her to no end), although, had Malphas been there, instead of those two imbeciles, there would have been no survivors, and she could had have gone to the next stage of her plan. Impressed at her cunning and ability to finally snuff out the last of Sparda’s legacy, there was no doubt he would make her his Consort, second in power only to him. And then she only had to wait, and bide her time for the perfect opportunity to strike him down. 

And then she would rule supreme, over the Underworld, and with enough planning, the Human World as well. She was so close to the culmination of all her scheming and manipulating. All she had to do is wait for her prey to come to her. Which was how she managed to keep herself from silencing the screaming child permanently.

_ “Mistress,”  _ a slimy boar headed  Ciriatto approached, its ragged ears flipped down to cut out most of the high pitched drone that came from the child  _ “He comes.” _

Ah, the moment had finally arrived.  _ “Does he carry the Heretic’s Blade?” _

_ “No, he does not have it, nor any other Devil Arms.” _

_ “Excellent”  _ she allowed a grin to spread to all three of her heads,  _ “Escort our guest in, and make sure to remind him of what will happen if he takes advantage of our hospitality.”  _ Ahhh, she could almost taste the blood she would lick off her fingers soon.

Another muffled wail disturbed her good mood, so she whipped around to the child, and took the rough cloth out of his mouth.    
_ “Ah, it’s time,”  _ she crooned, ignoring his cries,  _ “Your father has come for you.” _

The brat finally stopped bawling, instead choosing to sniffle, and trying to wipe the tears with his tied up hands. “D-daddy?”

The sound of hooves on stone, accompanied by a pair of leather boots approached, and clutching her prize tightly, she turned to greet her guest, two Ciriatto guards flanking him.. Ah...yes, it was he, and she didn’t need three pairs of eyes to confirm it. The blue garments, the slicked back white hair, not to mention the demonic aura he exuded. She could recognize that demonic stench, even after two thousand years.

_ Sparda _

And even if she had been uncertain, the look in his eyes, the cold hard fury of a demon who had their prized possession stolen from him, that was enough to know what he had come for, and that the only reason he hadn’t attempted to tear through her guards was because of the whimpering bundle she mockingly cradled in her arms.

“Give my son back to me,” he demanded, and she chuckled, amused at his presumptions.

_ “How rude,”  _ she replied, in a mockingly hurt tone,  _ “I allow you to enter my domain, unmolested, and you barge in, thinking you can dictate terms?” _ She used one of her free arms to run her fingers through the boy's hair, and let one of her lips press a gentle kiss on his forehead. It was merely meant to antagonize the Last Son of Sparda, but she idly thought, if she could get the brat to shut up, she might keep him as a pet, even after she overthrew Mundus. A memento of a past partnership that had gone sour.

The child quivered in reaction, and his father’s brow furrowed, his eyes nearly shining in rage, even in the dim light of the cave. She drew back, after all, she didn’t want him to release his true nature. Not that she would have any trouble defeating him, but no need to make it more complicated than it had to be.

“D-d-daddy?” The boy looked to his father, but there was something off about the tone of his voice, as if he wasn’t sure that his sire had come to attempt to rescue him.

The half-breed’s glare softened as he looked at his son, as if he was attempting to calm him down, “It’s okay, Nero. Your dad’s here to save you.”

As much as she would have liked to drag out this family reunion, if only to make the inevitable end ever so sweeter for her, time demanded that she had to cut it short.

_ “Pay attention little one,”  _ one of her heads said close to the child’s ear,  _ “You will want to remember your father’s final moments.” _

And without warning, she struck, her unwieldy steed moving with uncharactic speed, her claws of two of her hands extending wicked claws, while the other gripped the boy to her side. Finally, the moment she had dreamed of.

_ “NOW DIE!” _

The boy screamed, and within a second she had reached the Son of Sparda, his escorts wisely getting out of her way. Her three mouths shrieked in delight, accompanied by the sound of her claws whistling through the dank cave air as she swiped down…

**BANG!**

She felt a shooting burning pain as her vision dimmed slightly as she instinctively reeled back. Her clawed hands went to the source of the agony, the centre of her middle head’s forehead. Black demonic ichor streamed down that face as it slumped forward, throwing her off balance. And worse yet, the hand clenching on the boy loosened to maintain her stability, and the brat slipped from her grasp with an alarmed shriek.

The blinding pain dulled her senses, but she didn’t hear the thud of the child hitting the ground. Instead, she heard the swish of cloth, and an alarmed ‘oof’.

“I gotcha kid, I gotcha!”

It took a few seconds, but the pain subsided and her vision cleared somewhat. Everything was a bit dimmer, a bit more fuzzy, but she saw him holding his child, with one of those infernal firearms, like one that the previous guardian of the brat had on her, but…. her intel had assured her that the Last Son of Sparda did not wield those cowardly weapons, only that cursed blade. 

“It’s alright, Nero”, he grinned at the wide eyed child, and his hair, once swept back, now fell down, almost over his eyes, “You’re safe.”

The boy looked at him in wonder, his tears disappearing almost immediately, “U-uncle Dante?” The man’s growing grin widened, confirming the answer.

_ Wait, what? _

Malphas had no time to re-evaluate what had just transpired, her carefully laid plan was rapidly unravelling before the pairs of her remaining eyes. Rage subsumed her, she needed to finish them off, both of them if need be. Mundus would just have to be satisfied with the fact the entire bloodline was wiped out. She shrieked (this time in murderous frenzy) and charged, again. There would be no mistakes this time, as she used one hand to cast shielding magic around her remaining heads.

“Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner!” she heard him yell out, and with another deafening boom, her avian counterpart made a dying caw, before skidding to a stop, its legs collapsing as it let out a death rattle.

Her fury was now tempered with fear, but still, she had her plan. Not only were her Ciriatto guards here, there were a multitude of demons in this cave, ready to rush in and finish her uncompleted task, while she worked her demonic magic to revive her companion. He may have momentarily bested her, but he could not possibly fight off them all, especially not with the child encumbering him.

_ “Finish Him! For the Glory of Mal-Mundus!” _

The pair of pig headed demons immediately took out their rusty spears and thrust, but even while carrying his son, the bastard managed to dodge them easily, as if he was playing with them, before he unleashed a burst of demonic energy, which disintegrated them into ash, leaving only the spearheads clattering on the ground. Still, he could not expect to fight them all off. But no demons came to assist.

_ “YOU FOOLS!”  _ her screams now reaching the pitch of the formerly imprisoned grub  _ “I GAVE YOU AN ORDER, AND IF YOU WILL NOT DO IT, I WILL PERSONALLY FLAY YOU ALIVE!” _

And that was when Malphas, realized that she couldn’t sense any of her demonic underlings. All she could feel with the quivering flame that was the boy, the steady fire that was his father.

And the raging inferno of demonic energy that emanated from behind the duo. It was similar to the mongrels in front of her, but yet it exceeded both exponentially. Malphas could have sworn she had felt said power once before, in a long lost age. 

_ Sparda… _

And now he came into view, the Dark Slayer himself, wielding that accursed, wretched blade, covered to the hilt in her underlings blood.

And yet, she seemed to recall Sparda emanating a royal purple glow, not this ice blue fire. And Sparda never had such a tail that swished menacingly behind him right now. The more she looked at him as he approached, the more differences she saw, and yet...whoever this was, the demonic energy that flowed out of him was possibly greater than Sparda’s, or even (she would never admit this out loud) Mundus’s. And it was all directed at her.

And for the first, and last time in her long life, as Yamato sang out in vengeance, Malphas, the Ambitions Amalgam, leader of the God Emperor's Armies, and Future Ruler of the Underworld, felt terror.

*****

As the dust settled, and the danger had clearly passed, Dante let go of the struggling Nero, who ran as fast as his little three-year old legs could go towards the figure of his father, as the demoness disintegrated into sulphurous ash. But before he could reach him, he skidded to a stop with a fearful cry.

Vergil looked nothing like his human form, and barely like his Trigger form. This was something far more primal, more demonic. His leathery plates had transformed into metal, shimmering in the darkness from the beams of energy that erupted from what seemed to be horns. Large Wings and a tail added to the utter strangeness of it all. And his face! At least before when he triggered, it looked vaguely human, but this one, with its exposed teeth, and praying mantis-like mandibles, made him look like he came out of some fantasy novel. No wonder Nero was hesitant to approach, it even kinda gave Dante the heebie jeebies.

“Daddy?” Nero whimpered, and Vergil turned his head and took a step forward. His nephew darted back a step, and his brother froze, before kneeling down on plate covered knees, no doubt attempting to encourage his son to come to him. If he de-triggered now, it would just confuse and scare Nero even more, and after all the kid had been through, he didn't need anymore turmoil.

Nero glanced back at Dante, looking for all the world that he wanted to run back into his uncle's arms, but Dante smiled reassuringly back, to encourage him to go to his brother.

“Go see your dad, kid.... tell him that I like his new outfit.”

And then, step by step, Nero approached, with Vergil not moving a muscle, (aside from the rapidly swishing tail, that must have a mind of its own)

“Daddy?” Nero repeated, still fearful, but not as much as before. Vergil let his tiny hands explore his draconic claws, armoured arms, and plate covered chest.

“Daddy...is..Dinosaur?” the little boy inquired, resulting in what was probably an amused huff from his father, as his mandibles quivered.

_ Can he even talk with that mouth?  _ Dante wondered as he watched his nephew continue to trace his hands around Vergil's face, and horns, but then yanking them back when he came to the sharp terrifying teeth.

“Daddy...is....Demon?” Nero questioned with barely concealed terror. Vergil's mandibles twitched, and the air became still as both men remained frozen, not wanting to scare the boy anymore. Was Nero about to reject his father?

_ Kid, it's your dad, he'd never hurt you, he wants to keep you safe, he...loves you, you have to feel that, right? _ Dante tried to mentally send his feelings to Nero, to get him to understand that despite everything, he was loved and cared for.

Nero scrunched up his brow, and closed his eyes, reaching again for Vergil, placing his small, delicate hands back on the horns. Now even Vergil's tail had stopped moving. Utter silence as time stopped for this one important moment.

The boy slowly opened up his eyes, and smiled.

“No... Demon... is Daddy!”

And with that, Nero threw his arms around his father's neck, and Dante let out the breath that he only just realized he had been holding. Vergil, still remaining in his form, gently wrapped his winged arms around his son, and nuzzled him, assuring him that he was safe.

_ He was protected. _

_ He was loved. _

******

“You know,” Dante said as he pulled off the freeway, and onto a sidestreet, a few minutes from their destination, “You’re gonna have to let him go sometime before he turns eighteen.”

Vergil gave him an intimidating glare, albeit half hearted, as he gently combed through his son’s soft hair. Dante did have a point, even if he’d never admit it out loud. He couldn’t keep Nero with him all the time, he’d never grow if his father was always sheltering him.

But now, with Nero sleeping against Vergil’s chest, his soft breath rustling the red leather coat Vergil was wearing (First thing he would do upon getting home was to take the damn thing off,) he would just enjoy this moment, holding his son. He tried not to think about the tear tracks that carved clean paths on Nero’s dirty cheeks, tried not to think about the bindings Dante had cut off the child’s wrists and ankles. And he definitely tried not to think of what Nero had gone through in the past twenty four hours. He prayed that Nero was young enough that the horrors would disappear into the mists of forgotten memories, and would not plague his sleep, like the memories of the fire that still occasionally haunted Vergil.

And yet, when his son was in danger, something inside of him, a reservoir of power he had never been able to access ever before was unlocked. Not Yamato, not the countless hours spent training and researching, not even raising Temen-ni-gru, had gotten him the power he’d sought all his life.

But, with his son’s life in the balance, and with a legion of demons between him and Nero, something just clicked. As he had cut through yet another Hell Pride, he thought about how many more were between him and his son, how every moment he wasted fighting this rabble, was another moment that Nero was in danger. He had no idea if Dante could keep up the charade, or if they’d see through his deception. The thought of a life without his son, without Nero, due to his own weakness, it was unbearable. Vergil would NOT FAIL again. And suddenly, a fire bubbled up inside of him and he’d surpassed even his Trigger form, cutting through the scum with breathtaking ease. Even now, with the danger put behind him, he couldn’t quite figure out what, or why it had happened.

No, that was a lie, the reason was right in front of him, literally, dozing, his tiny hands clenching on the leather, (perhaps he could stand wearing Dante’s coat for a little longer, if only to keep Nero comfortable.) The love for his son, his drive to protect one of the few good things he had in his life had given him the drive to break past his limitations. Perhaps this was the true source of his father’s power. Not towers, not weapons, not ancient tomes in forgotten languages, but love, and the instinct to protect it. He would only admit it to himself as he stiffened when Nero stirred momentarily.

“I’ll admit,” Dante said softly, as to not disturb his nephew, “Your outfit is pretty comfy, if a bit tight around the chest,” as he loosened the first few buttons of the vest, “I can see why you would wear it though.

“Don’t rip it before you return it to me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”

They had now reached the familiar redstone building, it’s garish neon light temporarily shut off. Hopefully its current resident was healing. Nero would be distraught to see his favourite aunt in such bad shape.

“Dante.”

“Yeah bro?”

“Thank you.”

His brother almost slammed on the brakes, “Pardon? I could have just sworn you said ‘Thank you’, instead of something like, ‘Foolish little brother’”

“Don’t push me,” Vergil glowered, “I merely wish to thank you for thinking of the plan to switch our outfits, and for putting yourself in the line of danger.”

“D’aww, you’d think I’d leave my precious little nephew in the clutches of some three-headed freak?” He slowly pulled up, attempting not to disturb the child, but Nero had some way of sensing their sanctuary, because he stirred, and his eyes blinked slowly.

“Daddy?” he looked around, “We home?”

Vergil couldn’t suppress a smile as he lifted him out of the van. “Yes, Nero. We are home.”

Nero’s beautiful smile was like an oasis in the desert, as he hopped up the stairs, and through the front door.

His smile vanished the moment he saw the motionless figure, still lying on the couch.

“Aunt-!”

“Shhh, Nero” Vergil hushed him, looking at her. While she was still covered in bandages, she seemed to be healing rapidly, for a human at least. The Vital Stars they had left behind on the coffee table were gone now. She dozed calmly, and Vergil was loath to disturb her, even to tell her that Nero was safe. He would wait until she awoke, and deal with her anger then.

“She’s resting, Nero. She was hurt badly by the demons, so we mustn’t disturb her.”

“She got ouchies?”

Vergil sighed. He had tried his best to teach Nero proper words, but sometimes, baby talk slipped through, “Yes, she has injuries”

And before Vergil could stop him, Nero toddled over, quietly, and leaned over the sleeping woman.

“Nero!” he hissed, but the boy paid him no mind as he gently placed his lips on the rapidly healing, but still scarred bridge of her nose. “Magic kisses take the hurt away,” he whispered, and ran back to his father.

Vergil picked him up and started up the stairs. The boy needed a bath, some fresh clothes, some food, and a nap, not in that particular order.

“Did magic kisses work?” Nero asked his father worridley, and Vergil glanced back at Lady, apparently still sound asleep, and yet now, her breathing had quickened, and there was a smile on her face.

“Yes,” Vergil said, as they made their way up the remainder of the stairs, squeezing Nero in a loving hug, “Yes they did”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Much of Malphas's history is just based off of a headcanon I've created of her, as DMC5 left her a bit blank. I've thought her and other Demons joining up with Sparda against Mundus, thinking he would be a better ruler...until they found out he wasn't planning to rule at all. And then most of them (aside from Moedus and Baal, and possibly others, I haven't watched much of the anime) would rejoin Mundus.  
> And while people know Beowulf, from DMC3, Naahma is a reference to the nameless spider demon from the first chapter of Polaris. One day I shall write a bit more about those two, and how they and a terrified kid Vergil crossed paths with those two.


End file.
